


I heard you're seeing stars

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also I am in no way glorifying or romantising these things, Aquaphobia, Attempted Suicide, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bulimia, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Depression, Drowning, Eating Disorder, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I love my blue boy but, I wrote this instead of revising for an exam oops, Lance (Voltron) Has Depression, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance just loves Keith too much, Langst, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Tendencies, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, There's a suicide attempt but he regrets it straight away, This is based in season one bc season five fucked me up too much, What Have I Done, also there's a lot of swearing, ambiguous ending, but - Freeform, he has a severe fear of water my poor boy, hes in pain, its only mentioned a few times but it's there, klangst, lance says fuck a lot, this is fucked up but it's here anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 17:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The truth is: the stars are falling.The sun, the moon, you.You're falling so hard.------------KlanceTW: self harm, drowning, bulimiaAmbiguous ending2nd Person





	I heard you're seeing stars

**Author's Note:**

> If you didn't read the trigger warnings before, I suggest you do now.

When you were a 12, you swam.

Had that water wrap around you as if it were a mother, holding onto her child for dear life- as if you would slip from her grasp. It encased you, slowly eased you (but scared you with how protective and endearing it could be). You'd float there for hours, thinking through it all as you stared upwards towards the sky; eyes creasing as they caught the sun. Your favourite star.

When you were 13, you drowned.

As much as you dreamt otherwise, you never really liked how it turned out for you. You swam for so long, loved it, spent all your time swimming. But it didn't really last.

You'd been staring for hours, that star in the sky (the sun, was it?) had been staring right back at you. But you slipped, felt your breath being ripped straight out of your lungs and your mind had begged for more so you'd opened your mouth and they'd been flooded with that water you'd loved. You don't even know what happened.

You start panicking whenever you touch anything water related, you can stare and be attracted but you just can't touch.

Although, life requires things involving water so you suck it up- tainting your bath with chemicals. Thus, your self-care obsession was forged. Distracting you from the fear, almost (you still have panic attacks if you don't hurry yourself up and force yourself to get over it).

You decided to love the sky now, the waters had made you too afraid.

You could not go back to the waves, but you can still climb your way to the clouds.

At 14, you ran.

Your sister, Veronica, had been calling you over- asking for help with her homework. You'd been the best in the family with English, learning it with an almost inhuman ease but you honestly just thanked your obsession with getting your mind off the depths of the sea.

Though, as you made your way across the schoolyard to get to her- some kids pushed you down. Sure, they're the same age as you but they were still kids. _You're still a kid._

Everyone knew about your fear of water now (thank a mental breakdown that occurred when your twin brother, Luis, spilt some on you, and even if it was a small puddle on your hand; you were still thrown right back into the ocean and you just couldn't breathe). The fear wasn't really a common one seen as you live in Cuba- which is practically littered with water itself; so you were deemed a freak.

The boys threw their water at you, and you just froze for a second; and the horrid waters of the ocean were so dense and deafening that you couldn't hear your older sister shout your name. You freaked out and once you broke out of your trance, you ran and ran and ran and ran.

That was the day you learned to hate yourself. Hate this fear. Hate this world and the attitudes of the people inhabiting it.

**_If you were lighter, you wouldn't sink?_ **

This logic brought you to the unhealthy habit of purging, eating that food so you wouldn't cause worry but throwing it straight back up so you wouldn't drown again. Your body would save you automatically, keep you afloat. You won't have to avoid the waters anymore, you hope.

At 15, you cried.

You'd gotten heartbroken during school today. Apart from you weren't actually heartbroken, since you were too young to even know what love meant yet. A boy at school today, Raphael, had caught your attention and your eyes lit up with _**wow, he is fine.**_ You didn't like this, even though you weren't against it- you knew what this meant.

This meant you were even more different from those you always wished to be just like. This meant the drowning all over again, but now it's not in the ocean. Now, it's your own self-hatred bubbling up because why can't you just be normal for once? You can't concentrate, you can't be near water, you can't breathe and now you can't like girls and only girls.

So, you went home that night and sat in your dimly lit room (you only had a bedside lamp, thank poverty) and cried and cried until you saw the moon and cried some more.

(Then, you saw how water and tears were essentially the same and that made you feel worse.)

However, you decided to do something more about your life. You won't drown and you won't have enough of yourself in you to hate. But, you also won't cry. You want to stay away from that water bullshit, get as far away from it as possible.

You lose yourself, you lose the burden that is self hatred; and hopefully one day you'll just lose your life so you won't have to deal with the burden of living itself.

_**Suck it up, buttercup.** _

At 16, you joined the garrison.

Your family weren't too excited to see you go, but you were fucking pumped to get out of the hell hole that was...whatever that was. A place to pinpoint where you got traumatised? Where you got bullied? Where you got your air literally ripped out of your lungs? Where you were a freak? Now, you can change that.

You got friends now. They don't know your fears and they don't know your issues, and they don't have to; that's the beauty of it. You could run away from all that shit.

Apart from......you can't.

Not everything. Not anything, really. But definitely not your sexuality.

There's this kid. And you swear, he has the universe in his eyes. (You also swear that he's stuck in the 70s or some shit, considering his mullet that he somehow seems to wear proudly.)

But those eyes, they remind you of space- or what you imagined space would look like.

A palette of violet and lilac, spinning into a wild amethyst as pure onyx takes centre stage.

You weren't planning to see the universe this up close. Not yet.

At 17, you were thrown into space with: your two best friends, your hero, your universe and a fucking robotic lion. Did you forget to mention the **flying fucking robotic lion?**

Then you met the Alteans and became painfully aware that these were the people you were gonna spend half, if not all, your miserable life with. These were the people you were gonna have to hide mental breakdowns from whilst simultaneously loving them and supporting them.

**_You're a freak, you can't tell them._ **

Then, you look into those- you fucking swear- violet eyes but you can't melt (don't fucking melt or you're gonna blow your cover). You have to stare into ,what you presume is a painting of the multiverse and all it's undiscovered shades of purple, those eyes that were so alert but breathtakingly beautiful.

**He's so beautiful.**

It genuinely hurts you to think of him doing anything but smiling, being happy, laughing....Imaging him in pain or sadness, imagining tears in his eyes from anything but pure joy- it rips at your heart and you can't breathe again, though it's for different reasons and you force yourself to suck it up this time.

You cringe when you insult him, even though you lower the blows and prevent yourself from saying anything too harsh. You don't want to upset him, even though you're pretty sure he doesn't have any emotions other than pissed.

You're still 17 and everything goes to shit.

**They know, they know, theyknowtheyknowtheyknowtheyknow.**

You fucked up. You shouldn't have done that and now they know. All of them. You could've probably handled Hunk and Pidge, maybe Coran or Shiro knowing but all of them? Finding out? On the same day? Not good.

You freaked out, and for no fucking reason. So, you just presume the fact that you've ran out of meds recently, only having two bottles full of the fuckers with you- since you're paranoid, but apparently not paranoid enough- is to blame. You had a breakdown and it wasn't water. Just nice, friendly, old, lovable self depreciation paying a routine visit.

You screwed up the mission, and everyone was shouting at you ( aside from Hunk, bless him) and you just snapped words at them, cried then ran away. Like the worthless freak you are. You ran to your room and you cried and cried- but this time there was no moon to look up to, the nearest star being that boy from the garrison who was 1970 reincarnated.

You freaked out even more, breath coming in short pants and then you realised something as you lay in a useless heap in front of the door.

_**They'd be better off without you.** _

Now, this was a pleasant surprise. Your brain hadn't gone to suicide in a while, but alas it has proven you to be more of a freak than you originally believed. You let out a breathy, wet chuckle.

_**They don't need you.** _

Your breathing calmed down slowly, easing itself with what you believed was the truth.

_**They don't want you.** _

Your eyes scanned the room frantically, and you're so quiet now that you can hear Shiro shouting your name from down the hall.

_**He's only calling for you so he can kill you himself.** _

You let out a breathy chuckle as your eyes landed on your bayard, right where you left it: on the counter beside your bed so you can get it in emergencies. Now is an emergency.

_**You're a burden, you're pulling down the team.** _

You stand shakily and stumble your way towards the object; smiling once you get close enough to reach. But your knees are weak-

_**You're so fucking weak, so fucking useless. How the fuck did you get into the Garrison? Never mind become a paladin of Voltron. How are you supposed to save the universe?** _

And your breathing is slow now, slower than it's ever been, you think. Your bayard flashed and transformed suddenly into a knife, small and handy. However, it looks sharp and it glints in the reflection of the lights. 

_**Pathetic.** _

You press it to your left wrist and swallow in a deep breath, getting ready to hold it. You slice neatly, and the colour red trickles down your arm quickly. Red. Keith.

**_He doesn't care about you. He told you: he hates you. He wants you dead. He'll probably smile when he sees you gone, probably laugh at you with his pretty smile and pretty eyes. He'll call you a worthless piece of shit before he throws you off the ship, it's all you deserve._ **

You smile sadly at the reminders that your brain supplies, but that smile fades quickly once you realise-

The blood is streaming too quickly.

It's spilling onto the floor, all over your clothes and has practically dyed your entire arm the same, beautiful shade of red. You drop your bayard with a clatter. You hold your other hand against the wound and instantly feel;

It's deep. Very fucking deep. And that's an understatement. You think....you think you've cut open a vein, maybe two- maybe an artery. Sure, you want to die but you didn't even get to write a quick note- a quick:

"Hey, so, looks like you gotta get a new blue paladin. I mean, it's not like you weren't looking for one anyway."

Maybe you would slip in a small:

"Oh, yeah, and I love Keith. Like the whole fucking million yards. And I'm pretty sure that I'm in love with him in every fucking alternate universe and reality, if not then that version of myself is already dead. Though, I'm pretty sure even in the afterlife, I'll still be a boy in love."

You're breathing calms once again; but you know it's just because of the blood loss- at this point you wouldn't be surprised if it was leaking through the entire ship.

_**Impossible, you fucking idiot.** _

Maybe, your blood was tangled up with space dust and you were finally one with the stars. It registers in your brain that you're going to die, and your ears start ringing with the realisation.

You're back in the ocean. And you're scared.

You're in an ocean of blood this time, though, but that just makes it worse you think. Your throat is raw, and you can only smell the iron that's radiating from your excessively spilling blood, all you can hear is ringing and all you can see is red.

"S-ro." You try, cringing at the roughness of your voice. "S-ro!" That's better, you're getting somewhere. The ringing in your ears is insulted with the horrid breaking and cracking in your voice, the pathetic cries from yourself.

"Sh-ro!" You hear rapid footsteps, and your breathing finally picks up with the panic in your brain- you're going to fucking die.

You're going to fucking die. You just fucking killed yourself. _**You just fucking ruined the clean floor with your tainted blood, ruined the fresh scent of the ship with your liquid insides, ruined the team with how fucking pathetic you are**_.

You're dying. 

There's a voice outside his door, and you internally curse at yourself for locking it in the moment of panic.

"Lance! Lance, I need you to open the door." You hear Shiro shout encouragingly from the hallway, other background voices filling the void.

"I can't! It's locked, I can't. Por favor."You whimper, crying some more at how weak and young you sound. Too young.

"And you can open it from inside, Lance! What's wrong? What's happening?" Keith (?) replies hastily from outside.

"Fuck, I fucked up! I fucked up! I'm sorry, fuck, you'll have to knock it down. Lo siento, lo siento mucho." You respond, pressing your arm even tighter when you feel yourself become nauseous, vision threatening you with unconsciousness. You start blinking drowsily, your head is spinning.

Fierce bashing can be heard from the outside of your room, and you groan at how bad you feel.

 _ **Disgusting**_.

You barely register a group rushing towards you, gasps filling the room and impregnating the silence. Shiro is on your left and Keith is on your right, but your vision is failing you. You tilt your head to the left to stare at Kieth, since you're gonna die- you're gonna die staring at the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

Fuck. You regret everything, because there's tears in your universe's eyes and it's all because of you.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck. You made the most stunning thing to exist cry because of how fucking pathetic you are, because you couldn't keep yourself together.

"Lance, you're gonna be okay, don't worry." Keith's voice can be heard, pretty lips moving in sync with his words. More tears slip down your own cheeks and you shake your head, as if to disagree. Keith notices this and starts to let his own sadness leak, looking back down at the wrist Shiro is putting pressure on. He presses too hard and you mewl from the pain, you can practically hear him frown; and he whispers a swift "sorry".

Seconds later, Coran and Allura are there with mortified expressions- and Shiro is passing Kieth your arm so that the Black Paladin can run off to set up a cryopod.

"Red suits you." You chuckle, but you can't hear your own voice- don't want to if you're honest. Kieth shakes his head and you frown.

"No, no, Lance. God, this red is yours and I don't want to be touching it-"

 _ **He's disgusted**_.

"-because you're meant to keep this to live and breathe. Lance, come on." Keith starts ripping at his own shirt and wraps the material around the cut, tears making small noises as they hit the floor.

 ** _He's crying because you're so fucking horrible to look at_**.

You blink slowly, watching Keith as Hunk scoops you up in his arms (too easily in everyone else's opinions) and rushes you to the med bay. You frown even deeper as you look how your red is staining Keith's own hands. You turn your head slightly to look at Hunk, not being able to watch as Keith struggles to stand- glaring at his hands.

**_He's disgusted. You hear me? Disgusted. You're vile. You're better off dead, he can't wait for you to just disappear. He won't even remember you._ **

"'M tired." You whisper, wincing when you see your best friends face twist in agony at your words. Fuck.

"Don't close your eyes, Lance, just keep them open a little longer. You're doing so good, keep it up."

**_Pity, looks like you're only doing good when you're literally dying._ **

He places you in a cryopod, speaking quickly to everyone else in the room and you can see the pained expressions of everyone for the first time.

You wanted to die. Not see this. This is making it worse. You want to die even more now.

Shiro frowns and you swallow down more self hatred, taking it like a drug at this point.

**_He's disappointed. Like usual._ **

Pidge is staring blankly.

**_They're so mad at you, they wanted to wring their hands around your neck- to slice your skin open._ **

Hunk is crying; as if he, himself, were in pain.

**_He carried you, of course he's in pain. You never did get far with being weightless._ **

You want to scream to them all to just let you bleed to death, but once you see Keith break down even further you push the want away.

Maybe living wouldn't be too bad if you got to see your universe more.

Maybe living would be good if you got to see your star smile more.

Maybe you want to live if it meant you got to be the one to make him smile.

Maybe you will live because you sure as hell don't want your last memory to be of him crying over **_you_**.


End file.
